Knock Out (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) Read Online Free PDF Page B

they’d broken up, that much she knew. “Let’s do this.”
    They warmed up their muscles for a few minutes then stepped into the ring. It was like throwing a mental switch. She shifted from Renata, shell-shocked ex-girlfriend to Renegade Giordano, former women’s welterweight champion.
    “Okay, Rennie,” Bas said, holding up his gloved hands. “Show me what you’ve got. Don’t hold back, either.”
    She didn’t, giving it all she had, wanting to show Sebastian all of her skills. She didn’t want him to think he was wasting his time or his huge vats of money by taking her on. More than that though, she wanted to show him that she was a capable boxer, she wanted him to appreciate her skill and talent and strength. She knew if Bas admired anything, it was his opponent’s skill.
    Dance back, bob, weave. Right, right, left. Left hook, right hook, uppercut, right cross. Dance back and repeat. She sank into the rhythm of the sparring, focusing on her target, hitting Sebastian’s gloves wherever he held them. He barked orders as she swung, pointing out a lack of follow through on one punch, ordering her to tighten her footwork, praising a good jab. He coached, guided, criticized, and corrected, everything she would have expected of a trainer.
    It was like the years had fallen away. Back in the day, they’d met at Hard Knocks, when Renata and her father had come into the gym in search of a no-nonsense training space. The gym already had an excellent reputation for producing winners, and Sebastian had been on his way up even then. Renata’s father, Salvatore Giordano, had been a bantamweight boxer in his time but hadn’t made it to national prominence. Still, he’d convinced Armand Duparte to give Renata a chance. She’d taken it, stepping into the ring and showing everyone what she could do. That included Sebastian, who had happened to be at the gym that day.
    She’d squared off against one of the bantamweights who’d made the mistake of treating her like a girl instead of a girl with boxing gloves. By the time she’d dropped him on his ass for the second time, everyone in the gym knew she’d meant business. Including Sebastian. Twenty-five to her twenty-three, he’d already had national recognition and was prepping for the next major leap in his career. They’d fallen hot and hard and fast for each other, their sexual attraction akin to pouring water on a grease fire. She should have known it was too good to last. She should have known he’d throw her over for the next step to a world championship. Hell, she’d probably have done the same thing if their positions had been reversed.
    Sebastian tapped her shoulder hard. “You’re not paying attention! Where’s your mind at?”
    Crap. She shoved her thoughts away. “I’m paying attention.”
    “The hell you are!” he barked. “Stop wasting my time. Pull your head out of your ass and act like a boxer.”
    “I am a boxer!” Anger flooded her. Wasting his time? She was not a fucking waste of time!
    Growling, she went on the attack, putting her all into every punch, every jab and uppercut, growling and grunting with each swing. She backed him into a corner, her aim less refined with each swing. Her vision blurred and it took her long moments to realize it wasn’t sweat stinging her eyes, that Sebastian wasn’t returning her jabs or even trying to defend himself.
    Shocked at herself, she backed away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—oh God, I’m apologizing to you. To you, when you’re the one who should be apologizing to me! You stomped on my fucking heart, Sebastian Delacroix. Stomped on it, pissed on it, then disappeared like we had nothing. My dad said it was for the best but I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to believe him because I believed you were better than that. But you didn’t even come to his funeral. Now here I am, giving you an apology! How ridiculous is that?”
    Renata started laughing, and once she started, it was